The result was a resounding failure that had turned Aden Kai into a demigod and elevated the near-mythic status of the squad. The news channels were currently obsessively playing the images filmed by eyewitnesses who’d seen the female Arrow take down the Consortium shooter.
What made the news media voracious in their interest, an interest shared by the public at large, Psy and non-Psy alike, was that the Arrow was petite by the standards of any of the three races. That petite woman had decisively beaten a man twice her size without sustaining a single injury. She’d also been pitiless in her treatment of the male, who had unfortunately known enough to have revealed the Consortium’s existence and pointed the squad to one of the founders.
The image of Zaira Neve, her face cool, holding the tip of the blade to the shooter’s eyeball, was being shown over and over. No one was horrified by her actions. Or if they were, the horror was mingled with equal amounts of awe. The Arrows hadn’t only retained their position as the bogeymen you never wanted on your trail, they had become heroes who protected innocent bystanders.
“We have to pull the plug,” the architect said to the Consortium’s top tier. “We overreached by attempting to take out the Arrow leader.” They should’ve focused on Nikita Duncan. Now even she was forewarned. “You’ll notice one less member at this meeting. He was captured by the squad last night.”
A murmur of consternation. “He won’t be able to identify us?” one of the others asked.
“No. It’s why we’ve always taken precautions veiling our identities from one another.”
“Except you,” another member pointed out. “If you get captured, we’re all dead.”
“I won’t be taken. I haven’t survived as long as I have by being unintelligent. We’re all safe.”
Regardless of the assurance, every individual at the meeting knew that in going after the squad, they had painted targets on their backs.
It was a risk the twelve people in attendance—and the missing member—had recognized right at the start, but back then, the Consortium had believed they had the pieces in place to initiate a total shadow coup. Aden Kai was meant to have died on that mountain after he was interrogated, his body to be dumped in a public location that made it clear the Arrows couldn’t even protect their own, much less anyone else.
No one had expected the “field medic” to be a power, or for his female partner to survive her wounds. Now . . . “We need to go under for a small period as far as the wider world is concerned,” the architect reiterated, careful not to couch it as an order. The perception of equality was what held the Consortium together.
Agreement from all sides.
“The Consortium will rise again,” the architect said. “While the three races live in their separate worlds, we have created a group that takes advantage of all our different strengths and weaknesses. We will own the world.”
“We will own the world!” repeated the others, the sound thundering around the room.
Chapter 80
ADEN APPEARED IN public a bare six hours after his surgery, after promising Zaira the entire operation would take less than fifteen minutes. It was easy enough to organize—with him taking a touch of power from Vasic to keep himself upright, he and the other man walked through a busy neighborhood as if on their way elsewhere. Giving the appearance that, to Aden, having major arteries and veins critically damaged was just a temporary nuisance.
People whispered and took camera-phone images from a safe distance.
Job done.
Two minutes later, they ducked into a disused building site and Vasic brought him home to a Zaira who scowled. “Get back in bed.”
“Come with me.”
As it was, he fell asleep almost as soon as his head hit the pillow and slept for fourteen long hours, leaving the squad in the hands of those he trusted. He woke, ate, fell back asleep. The next time he opened his eyes, he no longer felt as if he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. Touching his neck, he noted the sensitivity of the skin, but it was nothing major.
Not that Zaira would allow him to return to full duties.
It wasn’t until a week later that the medics gave him a clean bill of health. He’d spent the interim time with his Arrow family in the valley. The world was calm, no major issues on the horizon, though Aden didn’t trust that calm. He didn’t think their enemy had given up, and he was worried by how easily they’d manipulated countless parties.
However, he wasn’t about to squander this chance to care for his squad. Not only the older Arrows and the children—all of them. Because as a result of the calm in the Net, most of his Arrows had been able to come home.
Some couldn’t, of course. There were always serial killers operating somewhere in the Net, and they had to be hunted, but Aden made sure everyone was rotated back in on a regular basis. He didn’t want anyone to feel like Edward, as if they didn’t have a place in this new world, in this sun-drenched valley.
As he walked out after the final medical checkup, Zaira’s hand in his, he saw children laughing as they played, two of the oldest active Arrows watching over them, and felt his heart expand. “We’re doing it,” he said to Zaira. “We’re creating a better world for Arrows today and Arrows to come.”
Weaving her fingers through his, Zaira nodded. “I’ve heard a rumor.”
“Since when do you listen to rumors?” He felt a smile kick at his lips.
Narrowed eyes. “Since I’m trying to help you. Be grateful.”
Breaking their handclasp, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “I am.” And then, because he could, he kissed her in front of anyone who might be watching.